Wednesday, December 05, 2007

A kitchen sink drama

Some time ago, Zhoen posted a photograph of her washing up, featuring a neat drainer well-adorned with her blue and white crockery. I was able to own that I have a particular penchant for photographing my washing up. Following the modest success of cutlery and glassware in the last post, I am moved to post a photograph I took tonight. It is not perhaps the best study of washing up I have done, but it is of the moment, a typical Wednesday night selection: the black casserole dish which is filled with chicken and vegetables before I depart for my gym class (a penance and a mortification of the flesh I undertake every so often, only made bearable by the prospect of the extra wine I will drink afterwards, which probably nullifies any benefits the activity may confer) the red bowls the chicken and vegetables are eaten from, and the ladle with which they are served, the lurid melamine cartoon covered dog dish, and the teapot rinsed and ready for the morrow.

I have in the past experimented with black and white and colour accents, notably this one below in yellow. On looking at this again I experienced a very minor spasm of sorrow and regret when I remembered I have since broken that yellow plate, of which I was most fond. (Any of my real world acquaintance who shake their heads uncomprehendingly when I try to explain how and why I blog with the well-worn 'haven't you got anything better to do?'-type response would, on reading this, have all their assumptions confirmed.)

I invite other blogging folk with nothing better to do to share their washing up on-line. Dishwasher users need not fell excluded, simply snap a picture of your crocks in all their steaming glory as they emerge from the interior of the Miele, and post it.

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Changing the subject completely, a pleasing idea occurred to me recently: if high powered, long nosed, thrusting sports cars are, as is popularly attested, penis extensions for the men driving them, then those over-capacious, globular, blunt-nosed people-carriers driven with such serene obliviousness and containing usually no more than one or two cosseted and protected infants must surely, but surely, likewise be womb extensions for their female drivers?

I have 2 photographer friends ( who are not bloggers, I add) but I think they'll be fascinated by these pictures. It's as in all art forms: the "ordinary" is often the most "telling"Good to call in and see you again.

I only wish my washing up looked that good :) Yet again, you manage to transform the ordinary into the beautiful. And yes, I suspect you're absolutely right about the feminine nature of big, safe womby cars.

i love to see images of real-life domesticity...and these are charmers.

Your musings on the Freudian interpretations of car choices makes me laugh...and think...Out West (in the true Wild, Wild West of the U.S.) it is said the larger the pickup truck, the smaller the endowment.

And then I wonder further: Why, is it that (here in the states) those horrible awful environment eating Hummers are purchased and driven mostly by women?? i suppose it's something about Power...and was terribly discouraged when i heard that news. i have always attributed a greater moral center to our gender...very much mistakenly as it turns out.